


Happy Birthday, Uncle Mycroft

by wendymarlowe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, I love AO3's tag system, M/M, Mycroft Has a Goldfish, ambiguous/implied relationship pairings, that was already a tag - I didn't make it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 11:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendymarlowe/pseuds/wendymarlowe
Summary: Rosie motioned for Mycroft to take Lestrade’s present. “Open it,” she demanded. “Mr. Greg and I got it for you, but it was Papa Sherlock’s idea. It’s something you asked for!”





	Happy Birthday, Uncle Mycroft

“Happy birthday, Uncle Mycroft!”

Mycroft raised an eloquent eyebrow, but he stepped back and allowed Sherlock, John, Lestrade, and Rosie into his front foyer. Lestrade carried a large box wrapped in blue paper and topped with a jaunty bow. Sherlock handed him a lemon cake - one of Mrs. Hudson’s better recipes. Mycroft carefully kept any expression of appreciation off his face, lest Sherlock latch onto it and tease him for the rest of time.

Rosie motioned for him to put the cake down on the credenza and to take Lestrade’s present. “Open it,” she demanded. “Mr. Greg and I got it for you, but it was Papa Sherlock’s idea. It’s something you asked for!”

“I did?”

Lestrade grinned at him and passed over the surprisingly heavy box. “So I’m told. I know you didn’t want a party but Rosie insisted. We figured cake and a present might still be acceptable and then we’ll get out of your hair.”

Four against one and Rosie making that pleading face? Mycroft had no chance. He carefully removed the paper and uncovered… a fishtank? Gravel, several fake plants, and a plastic bag with a fish in it were all carefully layered along the bottom to minimize shifting and any telltale noise.

“A goldfish!” Rosie exclaimed, needlessly. “I heard Papa Sherlock say you needed to get a goldfish like he has, and you said ‘hmmm.’ That’s the noise you make when you agree with him but don’t want to say it. You never agree with him out loud because you’re siblings and Dad says siblings fight a lot, even him and Aunt Harry. I don’t have a sibling but Papa, does this mean we’re getting a goldfish too?”

John turned and gave Sherlock a long look. “You told your brother we have live fish? That’s news to me...”

Sherlock blushed minutely. “Erm.”

Lestrade, eternally clued into the complicated relationship that was John and Sherlock’s, cleared his throat suddenly. “I, ah. I’d wondered about that part of it but assumed you’ve got all sorts of strange things squirreled away in that flat of yours. A fishtank wouldn’t surprise me in the least. Although I’d have guessed piranha instead of goldfish. Convenient disposal for all those body parts I’m not supposed to know about?” He shrugged and offered a forced smile. “I’ve got two tanks of zebrafish at mine, although I’m not sure Rosie has ever been to my flat to see. They’re great pets for when you’ve got an unpredictable schedule. Anyway, so sorry to disturb you, Mycroft, but truly - happy birthday. I’m sure you’ve got a million and one things we pulled you away from--”

“He doesn’t,” Sherlock interrupted. “And if we leave now he’ll just pass the cake off to his staff in some misguided attempt to feel virtuous about his diet, despite the fact Mrs. Hudson made it especially for him because it’s his favorite flavor. And yours. Rosie and John and I must go, _so_ sorry. Lestrade, you should stay and make sure he enjoys his birthday presents. Both of them.”

Sherlock smirked a bit, clearly pleased with himself, and Mycroft had no trouble connecting the dots. _All three of them_ , he meant. Lestrade was clearly still clueless as to the implications, but John’s expression suggested he was planning to have words with his flatmate as soon as they got home and out of Rosie’s hearing. “Goldfish,” indeed.

“That true?” Lestrade asked. “I wouldn’t want to invite myself in, but if you’d like some company to eat with...”

 _Lord, save me from meddling brothers_. Mycroft sighed internally. No point pretending he was put out - Sherlock would call him on it and make things even more awkward. “By all means,” he said instead. “Detective Inspector, I’d be honored if you were to come share my birthday cake with me. I could use your expertise in getting the fish tank set up properly. I know the details can be finicky…”

Sherlock shot him one last wink as he ushered John and Rosie out. _Thank me later_ , the look said.

He’d probably have to - but if it meant an afternoon with Gregory, the inevitable gloating would be worth it.


End file.
